


Three-Body Problem

by JustGettingBy



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hakoda Adopts Zuko (Avatar), Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Original Character(s), POV Multiple, POV Third Person Omniscient
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29270709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustGettingBy/pseuds/JustGettingBy
Summary: In this world, the war ends early.Events ripple out from there.AKA The Hakoda and Zuko arranged marriage turned adoption au
Comments: 20
Kudos: 181





	Three-Body Problem

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](https://captainkirkk.tumblr.com/post/628880842024943617/captainkirkk-au-where-the-war-ends-for) post by captainkirk/Aloneintherain. 
> 
> CW for discussions of forced marriages (and one actual) but nothing more than that. 
> 
> Allusions to canonical child abuse

one

In this world, the war ends early. Aang is never found. Katara and Sokka do not cross the world with him. Instead, the Avatar stays in his iceberg as the rest of the world discusses peace. 

In this world, General Iroh does not go to Ba Sing Se and, by necessity, Lu Ten does not follow him. Azulon stays on the throne, moving his generals and descendants around like Pai Sho tiles. Now, he is old. He wants to know a world at peace before he slips away. 

In this world, Kya still dies and Usra still leaves. There is less pain, to be certain, but that does not equal no pain. Deep in the hearts of the people, they still ache. Raw nerves exposed to frost. Wars leave scars, whether they run for a hundred years, or ninety years, or six months. Slowly, the world heals over. Slowly, the core of winter melts to spring. 

In the years after the war, trade opens back up, with fish from the South moving North and fruit from the West moving East. Textiles from the East make their way down South and beadwork from the North travels East. The world is a web of trade. Merchants and Lords get richer while workers and farmers get poorer. This is how the world has always been. 

Hate festers under the surface; the war is over but the knife stays stuck deep in the ribs of the world. 

This is how the world has always been. 

For all that happened, there was no justice. There is no peace.

***

In this world, General Iroh becomes Prince Iroh once more. He watches as Azulon arranges the marriage of Lu Ten to the Earth King’s younger sister. He believes this will strengthen the ties between their nation. 

After the wedding, after night after night of feasting and dancing and watching fireworks soar through the sky, Prince Iroh packs his bags and leaves for the center of the Earth Kingdom. All his life, he’s heard the legends of the library in the desert. He is not too old for another adventure; this life has not tested him the way other lives might have. 

Weeks later, Prince Iroh sails over dunes of sand, hot hair blasting against his skin and blistering sun filling his eyes. Next to him, on the sand-ship, another scholar smiles. Prince Iroh folds his hands together and watches the haze on the horizon. 

Back in the Fire Nation, Lu Ten dines with his new wife, Ru. They tell each other stories of their childhoods, of days spent on Ember Island and springs in Gaoling, watching cherry trees blooms. 

They don’t love each other. Not yet. But they both find the other pleasant and believe that, one day, they’ll find comfort in each other. 

Above them, spying from behind a thick curtain, are Prince Zuko and Princess Azula. They shoot glances at each other and, after Lu Ten swears to pick Ru a dozen dozen roses, Azula wrinkles her nose. 

“What is it above love that turns people into simpering fools?” she snaps. 

Next to her, Zuko shrugs. “I dunno,” he says, “it seems kinda sweet.”

“What do you know of love?”

Prince Zuko looks at his feet. What _does_ he know of love? He knows of love from his plays, from the sweeping tales of romances that defied their times and societies. 

Mostly, Zuko knows love from its absence. 

That is knowledge too. 

“See?” Azula says, her lips curling upward. “You don’t know anything.”

“Neither do you,” he shoots back. “Forgive me for imagining something better.”

Azula rolls her eyes and turns away. “Whatever, Zuzu.”

From there, Prince Zuko and Princess Azula make their ways back to their rooms, both seething with more heat than either one would admit. 

That night, Prince Zuko slides open his bedroom window and climbs to roof. He stares at the moon, half-lidded behind a fat cloud. A soft wind blows and, momentarily, the blanket of humid heat lifts off his skin. Zuko tilts his head heavenward and dreams of a life out there, a life beyond his own. 

In her chambers, Princess Azula runs through twenty kantas. And then she runs through them again. Only when her muscles shake and her limbs become too heavy to lift does she fall into her bed. 

Sometime in the small hours of the morning, Fire Lord Azulon dies. 

***

Toph Beifong is running away. 

On her third day gone, she realizes she probably could have planned things better. She’s out of food and the nearest river is, by her best estimates, hours away. 

Toph’s lips are dry and cracked; her head aches and the sun beats against her skin like it never has before. Part of it feels glorious. Freeing. She’s no longer caged in. 

But she can’t press on like this, not forever. Even Toph has her limits. 

If she had more time to plan, she would have brought more water and food with her. She would have found a better route to freedom. When Toph left, the only word that echoed in her mind was: _run._

And so she ran. 

And ran and ran and ran. 

Toph Beifong would be promised to no man. Her life would be her own—always her own. If she died out here, then at least her death would come because of her own decision, not anyone elses. 

Toph Beifong did not die. She made it to the river and drank deeply. She slept in rock shelter, her head on a soft bit of moss. 

The next day, Toph made it to a village. She wrapped herself in her shawl and sat against the side of a shop with a cup at her feet. 

“Poor girl,” one woman said. A coin clattered against the wood of the cup. “Do you have anywhere to go?”

Toph shook her head. “No, Miss,” she said in her most saccharine voice.

“I heard of a place, once, that always took care of their young woman.”

“Oh?” 

“I had a friend grow up there--Kyoshi Island, deep in the South.”

***

In this world, the South is still rebuilding. New houses are town buildings and shops have popped up since the end of the war. But the movement is slow, hindered by a lack of resources and people. 

In this world, they never did reconnect with the North. They did not get the help; they do not have the weight of a dozen waterbenders and diplomats to restore their home. 

The winter is warming to spring, and the South is all the more thankful for that. New ships should be able to get past the ice soon. They’ll have more connections once again. 

Chief Hakoda looks out over his village. The defence wall has been reinforced. There are families with new children, new babies who have never known a world at war. 

And, somehow, it’s still not enough. 

It might not be their end this year, or the next, or even the year after that. But Hakoda can see ahead. What will become of the South in twenty years? In fifty? 

“I need to do more,” he says to Bato. 

Bato nods, solemn as he always is. 

In the South, Sokka doesn’t ask Katara if she wants to tag along on his fishing trip. Instead, he leaves with Kalino, his friend. 

The two of them come back with a net full of fish. 

Sokka can’t imagine a better trip. 

  
  


two 

The Fire Nation is in chaos. 

In the flurry and fire, Ozai takes the throne. 

While the nation bows to their new Fire Lord, Lu Ten runs. 

He and Ru, who has known him for all of three months, slip away in the middle of the night and catch a cargo ship headed for the Southern Earth Kingdom. 

At night, Lu Ten and Ru sit on deck, nestled under the railing. Sea salt mixed with the light floral scent of Ru’s perfume fills Lu Ten’s nose. Ru rests her head on his shoulder and falls into a fitfull sleep. 

Lu Ten stares at the stars. They’re clear, at sea. More clear than they ever are, than they ever can be in the city. 

When he was younger, when he was still a soldier, he had no qualms about travelling this way. He’d go for days on end in rough conditions. It didn’t bother him if he slept on the ground, or if he ate only bland, stale bread. Back then, the thrill of adventure sparked him to life. 

Back then, he might’ve fought his uncle. 

Lu Ten is not so young anymore. His father’s advice has, begrudgingly, stuck with him. Brute strength is not always the best way to win--he needs to play his tiles carefully because, more than anything, his life isn’t his alone. He has Ru.

“I’m not so fragile, you know,” she told him when they left. 

He knows she isn’t. Lu Ten runs his hand over her dark hair and presses a kiss to her temple. 

They have a long road ahead of them. 

***

In this world, in the North, Princess Yue celebrates her seventeenth birthday. 

***

Fire Lord Ozai did not always believe his father to be a weak man. 

His core only softened as he aged. At the end of his life, in his gambit to appease a guilty conscience, he walked back on everything he believed. He did not have the strength to see Sozin’s vision through to the end. 

Ozai swears that he will, instead. 

He might not be able to start another war, but there are other ways to spread the nation’s greatness, other paths to his victory. 

Two weeks after Azulon died, nine days after Lu Ten fled, Ozai seeks out his son.

“You’re going to the Southern Water Tribe,” he tells Zuko. He won’t be the crown prince, not there. “The chief has a daughter.”

Prince Zuko doesn’t object. 

He knows too well what defiance brings. 

***

Chief Hakoda agrees to marry whoever the Fire Nation sends. 

Sokka and Katara do not speak to him; they freeze him out. Hakoda knows, too well, that they need time. He hopes one day they might realize, they might understand why he’s agreed. 

If they have children, maybe then they will understand his choice. What parent wouldn’t go to the end of the Earth for their child? He would die for them. He would die a hundred times and a hundred times more. 

The choice he’s made is to live for them. 

It’s the more complicated of the two options. 

***

Prince Iroh and the scholars have been studying Wa Shi Tong’s library for close to two months when a blip appears on the horizon--a sand-sailer grows closer and closer. Alone, it wouldn’t be that unusual. But they had just received a delivery of supplies not four days ago. 

Iroh frowns. Nothing good can come of unexpected messengers. 

When the ship pulls up next to the camp, when the Fire Nation soldier with blood-shot eyes steps off and plants his boots in the drifting sand, Iroh’s fear is all but confirmed. 

“I’m sorry,” the messenger says.

Iroh simply nods. 

“Fire Lord Azulon passed three weeks ago.”

Iroh’s brows rise in surprise. “That long?” A message could’ve reached him mere days after his father passed. 

Something, indeed, was wrong. 

The messenger swallows. “It’s taken us a while to reach you,” he says. “And Ozai has been crowned as the new Fire Lord.”

Iroh’s heart siezes in his chest; his gut hardens to a rock. The world, at the edges of his vision, blurs. “What of my son?”

The messenger frowns and looks to his boots. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “He disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“He could’ve left on his own accord.” The messenger doesn’t sound like he believes his own words. 

Iroh hangs his head. The world is too loud. How is a desert so loud? The grains of sand scream as they shift together. Overhead, the buzzard wasps cry and the wind yells and everything is loud, so loud. 

The messenger bows deep in respect. “The White Lotus opens wide to those who know her secrets.” 

Iroh wishes he could agree. 

***

The boat south is the longest two weeks of Zuko’s life. 

He wants something in his life to be simple, for once. 

He wants something in his life to be his. 

Zuko wants a love story of his own design. 

At night on the boat, he makes his way above deck. His breath forms clouds in the air. Never in his life has he felt so cold; the wind stings and his toes and fingers go numb. The tip of his nose follows, cold and burning all at once.

The stars, here are like nothing he’s seen before. In the darkness, colours swirl and cover the world in a green glow. Here is beauty beyond beauty. 

In some ways, Zuko can’t believe that this is the same Earth. How can places so different than the Fire Nation exist? 

The ship’s engine hums. In the distance, burgs of ice stick out of the placid water. Zuko lets out another breath and watches the condensation blow away, out to sea.

As the ship moves on, the sky starts to darken as clouds roll in overhead. Something wet flecks Zuko’s cheek and, for a moment, he wonders where it came from. 

It doesn’t take long for him to realize what it is—snow. He’d read about it before. Some catches on his coat and pile up. 

Soft flakes spin and twirl as they make their way down from the clouds like falling stars. 

Zuko closes his eyes. Despite everything, there is still beauty. A laugh builds in his core and he lets it free, he gives it to the sky and water and icebergs. 

His eyes wet and the tears freeze in his lashes. 

Tomorrow, he will have a new life. 

For now, his old life is behind him. 

This moment is his, his alone. 

***

The morning the ship from the Fire Nation arrived, Sokka and Katara refused to come to the docks. 

Instead, they hung around in their home, lounging by the fire and not talking. From this day forward, their family would not be the same. 

As the hours slip by, their rage fizzled down to hot coals and gave way to the rise of curiosity. 

“Do you think everything is alright?” Sokka asks.

Katara scowls and rolls her eyes. “I’m sure it’s all going just as planned.”

But as more hours drift away, the two finally conceded to go down to the docks, to see what’s taken so long. 

A Fire Nation ship—that ugly, metal thing—is docked in their tiny harbour. 

But no one else is there.

eventually, they find the commotion at their small town hall. 

From a closed room, voices ring through the walls. Loud shouts. Deep murmurs. 

Sokka turns to Bato, standing next to the door with a hardened expression. “What’s going on?”

“There’s been a… complication.”

“A complication? Is this a wedding or a battle plan?” Katara crosses her arms over her chest and frowns. 

“A bit of both, if I’m being honest,” Bato says under his breath. 

Before Katara and Sokka have a chance to press Bato any more, the door flies open. Hakoda blows out, brow knit and a deep frown carved across his face. “I’m going for a walk,” he says. 

Katara can’t remember the last time she’d seen her father so angry. 

When she turns around, the pieces start to slot together. In the middle of the meeting room, with a flame crown in his top-knot, is a boy around Sokka’s age. He looks as if he might be ill; he stands unnaturally still next to a Fire Nation man in simple robes. Covering one side of the boy’s face is a scar, one that looks as if it can’t be more than a year or two old. 

“This is private business,” snaps the Fire Nation man—Katara supposes he must be a diplomat of some description. 

“This is _my family’s_ business.”

“You’re the chief’s daughter.”

Still scowling, Katara nods. 

The boy—the prince—stares at her, his mouth parted in an o. “I thought I was going to marry her.”

Katara scoffs at first, the ridiculous idea rolling in her head. As the pieces click together, the vague amusements forms into a pit of dread. “No,” she says. 

Because if this boy is not marrying her, then there is only one other person he must be here to wed. 

***

Bato finds Hakoda on the far side of town, on the edge of a cliff that overlooks the ocean. When they were boys, they would come out here, liquor smuggled from their parents and pockets full of food. 

Hakoda sits on a bank of hardened snow and ice, staring out at the line of the horizon. The sun dips into the water, the water catches the light, the light ripples out over the world. 

Bato sits next to him and says nothing. He doesn’t need to. The heaviness of it all hangs between them, hangs like a noose. 

“I’m not doing it,” Hakoda says finally, when the world begins to turn dark. “I’m not fucking doing it.”

“I know,” Bato says. 

“A _kid,_ Bato. They sent a child.”

“I know.”

“And—and they’re playing it off, acting like it’s not a big deal because of some technicality.”

“I know.” Bato clasps his hand on Hakoda’s shoulder. 

Hakoda sinks forward, his head in his hands. “And I have to do it, don’t I? If I don’t, the new Fire Lord will take offense. If I don’t, I’m screwing us _all_ over.” 

Bato hums in understanding. “A marriage can be a vow alone.”

“It shouldn’t even have to be.”

Bato exhales, the cloud of his breath lingering in the air. “I know.”

***

Zuko didn’t want to get married. Not to some girl he’d never met. Certainly not to someone twice his age. 

He didn’t want to be rejected, either. What will happen if he’s sent home? What will his father think? Zuko bites his lip and tries to put that thought out of his mind. 

Once, in life, he wants to be wanted. He wants to be seen. He wants to be himself. 

***

  
  


Toph Beifong arrives on Kyoshi Island nearly a month after she first left her home. The merchant whose ship she came in on charged her all the coins she had left. 

This for Toph, was a gambit. She might’ve been better on her own. She could have made do by herself once she learned the lay of the land. For coins, she could’ve continued swindling villagers and joined illicit Earthbending tournaments. 

But where would that life have gone long term? At some point, her past would have caught up with her. Even now, her parents must’ve hired someone to track her down.

When her past catches up, Toph wants to have a life of her own. She wants people who will anchor her to this place, who will keep her from being dragged back into a life she can’t live. 

Toph steps off the dock and feels the solid earth beneath her feet. After three days at sea, this feels like coming home. In the earth, she feels the vibrations. The island isn’t large and the village itself is even smaller—a few dozen houses and shops knit together between trees and gentle slopes. 

“Are you the merchant’s daughter?” someone asks. 

Toph shakes her head. “I heard there are warriors here—women who will protect each other.”

“And you want to join?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

The woman chuckles. “Let’s go find Suki.”

***

Lu Ten and Ru rent an apartment in Omashu. The place threatens to fall apart—the cross beams on the roof have mold, the floorboards creak with every step they take, and the rocky far wall sucks all the heat out of the room. 

Lu Ten stokes the fire. Ru sits by the small window, her book in her hands. 

“We’ve still got enough money for a few months rent,” he says. 

Ru frowns. “We’ll need to find jobs.” 

Lu Ten nods, an unspoken heaviness between them. Neither of them have ever done much in the way of work. A Prince and a Princess, now without titles. 

Part of Lu Ten wants to suggest they go seek out her older brother, the Earth King, in Ba Sing Se. But Ru hasn’t brought it up and Lu Ten thinks he understands why. If they go, if they ask for help, they’re forcing the Earth King to make a choice: who is the legitimate leader of the Fire Nation? Ozai or Iroh? 

The thought of his father sits like a stone in Lu Ten’s stomach. He’s been away for months now. He can’t say if the news has even reached him or not. What must he be thinking? 

Lu Ten pushes the fire and the flames flare upward; curls of smoke rise and flood the air. 

Ru waves away the smoke. “We’ll make this work,” she swears. “I’m sure I can find work as a seamstress.” 

_Earthbenders are nothing if not solid,_ Lu Ten thinks. They’ll get through this, together, one day at a time. 

***

Hakoda and Zuko marry at dawn. Neither of them smile. No one claps or cheers. There is no grand banquet. It is purely political. 

  
  
  


three

When the ceremony is over, when Hakoda takes the boy back to his home, he shows him to Sokka’s room. A sleeping bed on a mat is sandwiched against one wall; a comfortable bed with warm blankets against the other. 

“You take the bed until we figure this out,” Hakoda says. 

The boy—Zuko—looks at him, his thin eyebrow raised. 

“You can do what you want, short of telling the Fire Nation about this arrangement.”

Zuko nods. He has a small bag with him, which he sets on the floor. For a moment, he only stands there, frozen in place. 

“This isn’t what I expected,” he finally says. 

Hakoda lets a half-laugh out through his nose. “Me neither.” 

***

Iroh reaches a port a few days after the White Lotus messenger came to collect him. On the way, the messenger spilled the story. 

Lu Ten is missing. 

Ozai is the Fire Lord. 

Azula is the Crown Princess. 

And Zuko has been sent to the south to marry someone twice his age. The thought of that pushes fire though Iroh’s core. 

How can this world be so cruel? How can so much go wrong, all at once? 

At the port, Iroh must make a choice. Does he go East and try to reclaim his throne? It seems a smart choice—ensure his power before undoing the damage that Ozai has caused. 

But if he fails, then he is guaranteeing he will never see Lu Ten again. Nor Zuko. 

Iroh shakes his head as he looks out to the boats in front of him. “I’ll go South,” he swears. Zuko first. He’ll save Zuko from that miserable life. As he travels, he might be able to find out something about Lu Ten and Ru. 

Together, they have a better chance at reclaiming the nation. 

He needs only to find them. 

***

The South is bitterly cold. Zuko doesn’t know how a place can even be this cold—how does the air itself not freeze? 

The beauty and newness of it all wears thin. The sky, when it snows, is grey for days on end. He’s always chilled, despite how many coats and layers he wears. 

And no one speaks to him. 

In some ways, Zuko supposes he should be thankful. That first day, he waited for what he knew was to be expected on a wedding night. It never came. 

Hakoda is a good man. He’s giving him food and shelter. 

There are worse things in this world than that. 

***

On Kyoshi Island, Toph trains. 

She hates it, mostly. 

Why did they insist on wearing armor that had to be arranged just so? Why did she have to let one of the older girls paint her face in order to fight? Why did she have to learn hand-to-hand combat when her Earthbending was strong enough on its own?

“We’re a team,” Suki tells her. “We need to be able to support each other.”

Toph rolls her eyes. “I can do it on my own.” 

“I know,” Suki says. 

It’s the first time that no one has challenged Toph on that. 

Her victory is more hollow than she expected. 

***

In the Fire Nation, Azula sits next to her father’s throne. The wall of flame crackles on as advisors and ministers filter in and out of the room, all caught up in conversations of how to best start spreading their influence in the Earth Kingdom, in the Water Tribes. 

Azula stares at the throne and thinks how, one day, it will be hers. 

For now, she sits still as a statue, listening to the endless discussions. 

When the meetings end, the Fire Lord turns to her. Azula bows deeply and keeps her face expressionless. 

“What do you know of the Avatar?” he asks. 

Two weeks later, Azula is on a boat, directing her crew, as she sets off to find the last of the Airbenders. 

***

One day, after Zuko’s been staying with them for almost a month, Hakoda gives up on finding a new place to take him in. The people are too afraid of the Fire Nation to risks their necks and Hakoda truly cannot blame them. 

In time, he’ll make sure he has his own place. 

For now, he gets another bed for Sokka’s room. Surprisingly, the two get along well as roommates. Hakoda has heard laughter trickling out of the space. 

Zuko smiles from time to time. Katara has stopped scowling at him and Sokka has even offered to take him out in a canoe next week and teach him how to fish. 

Hakoda watches them all sit by the fire and slip into a comfortable banter. 

The peace of the moment shatters with an errant thought: this calm will not last. A storm must be on its tail. That’s the way his life has always gone. 

***

Zuko can scarcely believe it, but this life, in fact, might be his own. He has his space that he shares with Sokka. At night the two of them will stay awake talking and swapping stories. Sokka tells him of the time Katara accidentally froze his boomerang in a block of ice and it took him a week to get it free again. Zuko tells him about practicing Firebending with Lu Ten. 

“So, you’re a Firebender then?” Sokka asks from the bed opposite his. 

Zuko twists in his bed and stares at the ceiling. “I’m part of the royal family.”

“Is that a requirement?”

Zuko grimaces. “Might as well be.” 

“Can I see it?”

“What?”

Sokka sits up. In the dark, only his silhouette is visible. “I’ve only seen Firebending in combat before.”

“Oh.” Zuko feels small. He could sink into himself and disappear. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

 _But it is my family’s._ Zuko sits up and turns. “Are you sure?”

Sokka nods and Zuko lifts his hand. He pushes his flame forward and, with a grunt of effort, a small fire spills out--a light no larger than a candle. “I’m not very good,” he admits.

The warm light casts shadows through the room. Sokka leans forward, in toward the light. A glow catches in his wide eyes. “ _Woah._ ”

Zuko’s face warms and he calls off his fire. 

“Tomorrow, you’re showing me more.”

Zuko lies back down and runs his fingers over his blanket. “Sure,” he says. He wonders if his smile comes through in his voice. 

***

Iroh’s journey takes him longer than he’d like. Longer than he imagined it ever would. He has to be careful—he’s still not sure what game Ozai is playing. Will he start another war? Will he dominate through rule of law? Both seem equally as likely. 

Knowing his brother, Iroh can see it being a mix of the two. He can see Ozai rising to power and stirring up a nationalist streak within the nation. He can see him pressuring the other nations more and more to bend to the will of the Fire Nation. 

And, once the foundation has been laid, Iroh can see Ozai striking. Cutting to the hearts of the other Nations. Drumming up an army and sending them across the world. 

Once, when they were young, Iroh had been close to his brother. Back then, they both trained for war. War, it seemed, was all the nation was capable of. 

When the war ended, Iroh turned to his books. 

Ozai did not turn to anything. 

As Iroh makes his way around the trade vessel heading south, he wonders what would have happened if he’d tried harder, if he’d reached out more. 

The thought beats like a drum in his mind. Could he have stopped this before it even began? 

But he can’t afford to lose himself down that line of thought. He has a task in front of him: get Zuko and take him away from the South. His nephew never should have been forced into that life. 

Lu Ten’s marriage, arranged as it might’ve been, was not forced. He met with several women from the Earth Kingdom before they’d set him up with Ru. And, if Lu Ten hadn’t wanted it, Iroh never would have forced his hand. 

Iroh sighs. He’s wasted too much time ruminating; he should get started on cooking the evening meal. That’s part of why the merchant let him come along--coin and the promise of hearty meals. 

There are only two days ahead before they reach the water tribe. In Iroh’s opinion, they can’t pass quickly enough. 

***

Ru finds a job as a seamstress. The nobles in Omashu love her—she has a fine hand and is quite possibly the best embroiderer in the city. 

After her third glowing recommendation, she purposely hems a dress too short and badly stitches the seams of another. 

The noblewomen stop coming. 

“I’m sorry you had to do that,” Lu Ten says as he presses a kiss to her temple.

“It’s not your fault—we both can’t afford any sort of attention.”

Lu Ten nods along. He’s been able to bring in what he can from odd jobs here and there. Mostly, he stays at home, making sure things are in order and trying to keep up with the ever growing list of repairs around their apartment. 

Lu Ten shifts in bed and wraps his arms around Ru. She leans her head into his chest and, for a moment, Lu Ten wonders if they can build a life here. If they can have a kid or two. If they can actually make this work and if they never have to return to the world of politics and subterfuge. 

It’s a nice thought. 

Somehow, though, he always imagines his past will catch up. 

***

Bato is the first one too see the ship on the horizon. A grin cracks across his face--he’s been waiting for the trading vessel for much too long. He hopes they might have fabric dyes from the Earth Kingdom--he’s been wearing only blue for much too long. 

Sokka, Katara, and Zuko are the next ones to see it. They were up early that day, planning to go fishing. 

“Are you sure you still want to go?” Bato asks. 

Katara nods. “We’ve been planning this for weeks and today is the first day with decent enough weather to go far out into the bay.

“Besides, Sokka’s been teaching Zuko to paddle for the last month now and somehow he hasn’t figured out yet that today we’re going to make him sit in the middle.”

Bato chuckles at the thought of Sokka sitting in the centre of the canoe with his legs folded up and water splashing from the strokes of the paddles. “The trader should stick around for a few days. You’ve got plenty of time.”

***

Zuko rows the canoe with determination. Steady, he keeps his hands on the ore the way that Sokka taught him to. The canoe skims through the bay, past chunks of ice, deeper into the south. 

In the back, Katara steers. She’s steady with her movements and, when he misses the pattern, she adjusts. 

She’s a waterbender, Zuko knows, even though she doesn’t use it much. In the time he’s been here, he’s seen her use it only a handful of times and mostly just for the sake of using it. She can hold a ball of water in the air, she can freeze it in a flash, and she can even throw a decent small wave through the air. She’s far from a master.

When Zuko thinks about it, he feels a hot wave of guilt. It’s not her fault. She’s had no teacher—there’s no other waterbenders in the south and yet she has more natural talent than he ever has. 

Another fear that Zuko won’t admit: he’s getting worse. In the time that he’s been here, his flame has only gotten weaker. As much as he wants to blame it on the cold weather, he doesn’t think that he can. There’s something more at play here, something he doesn’t yet understand.

Luckily, Zuko’s saved from thinking too much about it.

“I don’t get why _I_ have to be in the middle. I mean, Zuko’s not great at this.”

“He’s learning, Sokka.”

“I should be in the back then! You’re the girl.”

Katara snaps to standing and the canoe rocks violently back and forth. Zuko clutches at the side to steady himself. 

“Sokka!” Katara shouts. “That is the most garbage, pea-brained, sexist thing!” 

As she shouts, the water behind her responds. “Uh, Katara?” 

“No! I’m gonna finish. I’m sick of you acting like some big tough guy. Newsflash, Sokka—I’m every bit as capable as you.”

“Katara,” he backpeddles, “I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I should be the one looking after—”

Sokka doesn’t finish. The damage is already done. 

Behind Katara, an iceberg splits open and a beam of light shoots into the cloudy sky. 

***

Princess Azula spies a beam of light through her scope. 

She snaps it shut and turns to the Captain. “We must get there immediately.”

“The water is still full of ice,” he warns.  
“Is the ice your leader? Or am I?”

Within minutes, the ship is changing course and moving south. 

Azula swears she’ll bring her father the Avatar—she’s been gone for nearly a month, now. It’s taking too long. 

***

Iroh gets off the trading vessel and asks the first villager he sees to point him toward the chief. The young woman does and Iroh stars up a slim path of trodden down snow. He’s dressed lightly for the cold and the chill starts to press against his skin. 

Iroh grits his teeth. He wishes that he could’ve spent longer in the library; he wishes he could’ve learned more from the other elements. If only he had the time. 

Iroh knocks on the door and waits for the chief. 

Moments later, a tall, muscled Water Tribe man comes out. Iroh holds his fury in to his chest. 

“I’m here to collect my nephew,” he says. “I’m bringing him back to the Fire Nation.”

The chief frowns deeply. “We made a deal.” 

“Then I’m sure we can make a new one.”

“He’s not going with you,” the chief says. “He’s safe here. He’s comfortable.”

Iroh could yell. He could release a wave of fire and melt half the south pole into water. But he’d one firebender, surrounded by ice and strangers, with one boat to get out on. He knows when to play the odds. “Can I speak to Prince Zuko? I’m sure he might have a different perspective to offer.”

The chief’s eyes narrow. “He’s out.”

“I can wait.” 

“I’m sure you can.”

***

In this world, the iceberg cracks open while Katara, Sokka, and Zuko look on in amazement. 

In this world, the war has been over for a few years and a new one stirs. 

Azula sails on, desperate to collect the Avatar. 

In the south, Hakoda and Iroh wait in terse silence for Zuko to return, both ready to protect him from a life that’s already been so cruel. 

And, when Zuko returns, he’ll explain it all to them.

He’ll explain who the boy is in the orange and yellow robes, too. Here is Aang, the last of the airbenders. Here is a world falling apart. 

And the weight is on them to keep it together.

In this world, they’ll still travel North. Aang needs to find a waterbending master. This time, he’ll set off with three companions instead of two. 

On Kyoshi Island, he’ll pick up another two as they move North. 

This world is one of many, many worlds, all sprawling with possibilities. In another world, a leaf falls too late and the airbenders are never wiped out. In another world, a fisherman brings in a different catch one night and Aang’s iceberg is never found. 

There are worlds beyond worlds.

In this one, Iroh reunites with Lu Ten four years after he initially fled. He and Ru have a daughter—Sakura.

In this world, they face Ozai four years after Aang is freed. They face him with no Black Sun or comet.

They face Ozai with Azula on their side. 

In this world, and in every world, there is hope. There is pain, yes, and grief too. But there is always hope. 

Perhaps this is the universal constant. 

**Author's Note:**

> _In physics and classical mechanics, the three-body problem is the problem of taking the initial positions and velocities of three point masses and solving for their subsequent motion according to Newton's laws of motion and Newton's law of universal gravitation. ___
> 
> __Come vibe with my on tumblr @snailwriter :))_ _


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